


Naptime

by busaikko



Category: White Collar
Genre: Age Play, Community: kink_bingo, Gen, M/M, Plushie, Teddy Bears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mozzie knows how to take care of Neal. [plushie spoiler for 3.04]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naptime

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta, anotherslashfan

"Moving in?" the Suit asks Mozzie when he walks through Neal's door, carrying his duffel bag. Mozzie's not in the mood to play nice with the enemy, but Peter raises his hands like he's surrendering. Almost an apology. "I'm worried about him, too," he says in a low voice.

Mozzie breathes in through his nose, pulls himself up to height, and manages to keep his voice down and civil; well, condescending, but under the circumstances that's civil for him. He'd be disappointed with himself if he couldn't manage the act. "The sooner you _go home_ the faster I can _fix this_."

The Suit's shoulders drop under the weight of good navy coat, and he nods once. "Call me," Peter says. "If... whatever." He doesn't wait for Mozzie to answer, just nods once and heads down the stairs. The Suit's trying to hide a limp and his trousers are dirty.

Mozzie locks the door and sweeps the place for bugs, watching Neal as he works. Neal's curled on his side on the bedcovers, his back to the room, knees pulled up.

"Sorry I'm late," Mozzie says. "I got held up at the office. There was a problem with the firewall. Did you get into trouble at school today?"

Neal doesn't say anything at first, and Mozzie wonders if Neal's changing the rules again. But then Neal curls a little tighter and takes his thumb out of his mouth and says, "It wasn't my fault." Mozzie can hear the pout and the pain behind it, and he relaxes just a bit. He always thought people were nuts when they said he'd stop hating kids when he had some of his own, but then he met Neal.

 _This thing of theirs started years ago, when Mozzie had taken Neal under his wing professionally and was attempting to mentor on a personal level as well, because Neal needed it. Neal had been sitting on the floor and looked up with his eyes wide and said, "But I'll always be your little boy."_

 _Mozzie's reaction had come straight from the gut, his hand reaching out to touch Neal's hair. He said, "The best boy ever," matter-of-fact, and went a little light-headed as the care he'd learned from Mr. Jeffries suddenly yearned to be passed on._

Mozzie opens the duffel and sets it at the foot of the bed, and then sits down. He pats Neal's shoulder, awkward at touching but Neal never seems to mind. "I brought your jammies," he says. "And Mister Bear. Do you want to say hello to Mister Bear?"

Again with the long pause, and Mozzie wishes he could see Neal's face. He'll be very angry with the Suit if Neal's damaged.

Then Neal says, "Uh-huh," and rolls over. His eyes are open, and Mozzie pulls Mister Bear out of the bag and makes him say _Hello, Neal_ in a grumbly bear-voice.

Mozzie has a weakness for replica models and visual aids and props, but Mister Bear's more than that. Mister Bear's part of a great continuity of lost children and found families, but he has the profound elegant simplicity of his species. He is soft and warm and comforts at a touch and will never make demands, and maybe Neal doesn't understand that – kids aren't usually philosophical, in Mozzie's experience – but that's why Neal has Mozzie, to watch out for these things for him..

"Hi, Bear," Neal says, and holds out his hands.

 _Mozzie had been nervous about bringing the subject up, but one evening after he'd read Neal The Lonely Doll and Neal was lying along the sofa with his head on Mozzie's leg, he just said, "I'm going to get you a bear."_

 _"For my birthday?" Neal asked. He talked about birthdays, the balloons and the presents and so on, but always in a_ jam tomorrow _way._

 _"No," Mozzie said. "Just because you're my kid, and kids should have bears."_

 _In the morning, Neal insisted that Mozzie dress him, and Mozzie made Neal drink warm milk. "Coffee stunts your growth, I ought to know," he said, and tied Neal's shoes before they left his bunker._

 _In FAO Schwarz Mozzie shooed away the salesclerk and let Neal choose his own bear. Neal stroked the fur on a hundred bears, looked in their beady eyes, traced the lines of embroidered mouths, picked them up in both hands, just to see. Finally, he got that shy look that meant he really wanted something._

 _"Which one?" Mozzie asked. He touched the bear Neal was watching. "This one?" Its fur was very soft, almost like velvet but silkier, and honey-colored, and the bear had deep-set eyes and loose limbs. It felt like a bear that could be held all night long._

 _On the way home, Neal bumped against Mozzie as they walked and said, "I'm going to call him Mister Bear."_

 _Mozzie had been going to suggest the names of the Great Masters or possibly one of Neal's favorite Impressionists, but he nodded and said, "Mister Bear it is."_

Mozzie likes Mister Bear to be as dapper as possible; he kept Mister Bear safe while Neal was in prison, and made tiny outfits when he had the time, keeping them in their own safe. Today Mister Bear's wearing a blue satin ribbon and his smart red waistcoat with tiny gold buttons. Neal pulls Mister Bear into a hug, nestling down cheek to cheek. The fur on Mister Bear's face is slowly being worn away from all the cheek-rubbing, but Mozzie pretends he doesn't notice.

He takes Neal's neatly-folded pyjamas out of the bag. They're star-patterend and soft (Mozzie buys dryer sheets especially for the jammies and Mister Bear's delicates), and the arms and legs are too long because Neal likes having Mozzie roll up the cuffs. Mozzie has his own trousers tailored and doesn't understand the appeal of baggy, but it's a Neal thing.

Neal has his moment with Mister Bear, whispering into one tufted ear so softly that Mozzie can't eavesdrop; and whatever the bear says in return is Neal's secret. After, Mozzie gets him to sit up to get undressed. Neal's hair is dirty, so there's a bubble-bath in the near future (Mozzie is prepared; he has rubber ducks in the bag). There's a bandage taped above Neal's eyebrow, and bruises on his neck. When Mozzie unbuttons his shirt and tugs it off, he finds more bruises on Neal's chest, like he'd been kicked, and Mozzie _will_ make the Suit's life very unpleasant for this. He's careful not to make Neal stretch painfully as he helps him get the pyjama top on.

"I brought a good Camembert and some of those organic tomatoes," Mozzie says, doing up the big plastic buttons and straightening Neal's collar. "After naptime I'll make grilled cheese sandwiches, okay?"

"Okay," Neal says, and stands up so Mozzie can pull off his dirty slacks, careful not to snag on the tracking anklet. Neal steps into the pyjama bottoms obediently, and Mozzie pulls the elastic waist up and rolls all the cuffs.

"There," Mozzie says, and turns the covers back neatly. Neal grabs Mister Bear by the arm and crawls into bed.

"Stay?" Neal asks. Mozzie sighs, just for form, and stretches out next to Neal, who wraps around him. Mister Bear ends up tucked under Mozzie's chin like an ursine beard. Mozzie puts his hand on Neal's back and rubs clockwise circles. He has the idea that that's soothing, for some reason; something he saw in a film, perhaps. Neal heaves out a breath and goes loose, eyes closing, one hand on Mozzie's shoulder and the other curled around Mister Bear's ear. "Story?" Neal says, all shy hope.

Kids are such shameless manipulators, Mozzie thinks. It's amazing what they can get away with when they're yours.

"One story," he says. "And then you sleep." Neal nods. Mozzie breathes in, breathes out. "Once upon a time," he starts, "there was a boy named Neal who was out walking through this forest. . . ."

Neal's asleep before he gets to the part about the picnic. Mozzie shifts a bit to get comfortable, pets Neal's hair, and rearranges Mister Bear so his little face is watching over Neal. That taken care of, Mozzie closes his eyes and thinks about Neal, about puzzles and conspiracies and Suits, and the bears watching over them all.


End file.
